Leaves of Hope
by Larki13
Summary: When Aragorn and his family pass through Bree in an attempt to convince the folk that the King has truly come, they decide to pay Sam a visit, expecting their stay to be relaxing. But how peaceful can the Shire really be when a human child comes to visit?
1. Of Meetings and Trees

**Disclaimer: **All recognizable events, places, and characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and possibly New Line Cinema. I am not profiting from this fanfiction, it is written purely for my own enjoyment and that of any who read it.

**A/N: **Partially inspired by _Galadriel's Song of Eldamar_, as found in The Fellowship of the Ring, the eighth chapter of the second book: 'Farewell to Lórien', and also inspired by _Concerning Hobbits_ from the Fellowship of the Ring soundtrack. I spent a good half hour on research, trying to figure out how old the various characters would be. Sam's kids were easy enough, after all there's a whole family tree in the appendices on him, but I simply _could not _find any mention of when Eldarion was born. In the tale of Aragorn and Arwen, it switches straight from telling about Aragorn and Arwen's wedding to Aragorn being at the end of his days and telling Arwen "Eldarion our son is a man full-ripe for kingship" (343). No mention of when he was born, so I just guessed, because I was about ready to throw my book out the window in frustration. Anyway, if anyone knows for sure when he was born, and can cite a quote and page number, go ahead and drop a review or PM about it, and I'll gladly adjust the ages accordingly, since a few years either way will not affect the story negatively.

Please read and review. :)

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The Elves sang of leaves of gold. They sang of the sighing wind, the fading day. The elder hobbits of the Shire remembered the days when the Elves still resided in Middle-earth, when they could be seen on their mournful travels to the Grey Havens. The hobbit children had not been given even this forlorn image of the Elves, for there now only remained a few Elves in Middle-earth.

That very fact was what now had a certain hobbit-hole in Bag End in an uproar of excitement, for the inhabitants had just received word that their old friends were on their way to visit the Shire. Early that morning, a messenger from Gondor rode in and gave his oral message: Elessar, King of the West, was nearing the Shire, and would arrive before the week was out. With him were Arwen, the Queen, and Eldarion, their seven year-old son.

Samwise Gamgee had been out in his garden ever since the messenger had left, trying to perfect his garden, even though it was already indisputably the best garden in all of Hobbiton. His eldest son, Frodo, was happily assisting his father with the flowers, and Elanor, his oldest child, had spent the better part of the afternoon cleaning their home with her mother, Rosie.

The little family was ecstatic. Sam had raised his children on tales of his journey, and none of his family had yet met the non-hobbit members of the Fellowship. Merry and Pippin visited frequently and gladly fulfilled the children's requests for stories, but now that they were really going to meet the King and his Elven wife, both children were overjoyed.

The preparations made the remaining days fly past, and soon six year-old Elanor and four year-old Frodo stood alongside their parents to wait for the arrival of their guests. The messenger had been unable to provide a precise time, but had seemed fairly certain that the company would arrive on the 12th day of _Solmath_, and so the family stood ready to receive their visitors. They had not been waiting overlong when the tell-tale tinkling bells could be heard far down the road.

"Why, Samwise Gamgee!" a familiar deep voice sounded out from down the hill, as the face belonging to the voice appeared, joy apparent on his weathered countenance. "Strider!" Sam responded gleefully, stepping forward to meet his old friend and clasp his forearm. As he withdrew from the embrace, he murmured, "I hope I may still call you Strider, now that you're King and all." Aragorn laughed, and answered with a glance at the dozen soldiers who shadowed him, "Strider is fine, Sam. It took me many weeks to become accustomed to the name Elessar. I may have born a king, but I was raised a Ranger." He raised his eyes to the family several steps behind Sam, and his eyes widened. "And this must be your family. Would you care to introduce us?" he asked with a smile. Sam flushed with pride. "This is Elanor, my daughter, and my son Frodo." He smiled shyly at Arwen as he mentioned Elanor's name, because she was named for the tiny golden flowers of Lothlórien. He stepped forward to share a tender kiss with Rosie, and added, "And this is my lovely wife, Rosie."

Aragorn bowed slightly to the she-hobbit, and then turned his attention to his own family. "My wife Arwen, and my son, Elda-" He paused, surprise clearly etched on his face. "Where _is_ that boy? _Meleth nîn, _did you see where he went?"

Arwen smiled, and nodded toward the trees behind her horse. "He told me that he wanted to try speaking to the trees of the Shire. Perhaps he believes they will be more responsive than the trees of Gondor." Amusement colored her voice. Her eyes watched Aragorn as she delivered the news.

The Man chuckled and smoothly dismounted from his horse, handing the reins to the nearest guard. He brushed aside a low-hanging branch, and soon disappeared into the undergrowth. The remaining soldiers shifted uneasily, but Arwen silenced them with an authoritative look. "Your King survived in the wild for over sixty years without you; surely you do not think he cannot take a minute for himself to retrieve his own son? And in the peaceful woods of the Shire, no less?" Properly chastised, the soldiers relaxed, but did not take their hands from their swords or their wary eyes from the trees.

The soldiers did not have to wait long, and just a few moments after Arwen had finished her speech, a bright smile came to her lips. She murmured, "Aragorn has found him, although neither sounds too pleased with the other." Soon enough, the sounds of conversation reached the others' ears.

"...will not respond to your attempts to converse, Eldarion. You know this."

"But Ada! Leg'las talks with the trees all the time! Why can't I?"

"You are no wood elf. I realize that Legolas has...demonstrated his abilities during his visits, but you know that you are not an elf, and you have not the abilities to imitate these actions. Your mother has also told you this many times."

"It's not fair."

"Eldarion, truly the trees do not have anything interesting to speak of. Legolas once narrated a group of trees' dialogue during a night of hunting, and their topics are nothing that you would not find in the kitchens with the scullery maids, albeit with specifics more appropriate for their nature. They speak of insect infestation, diseased bark, and dwarfs with menacingly sharp axes. It is dreadfully boring, I assure you."

"Oh. Well then, what do the horses say? Surely that would be more engaging."

"I doubt it."

On that dubious note, the pair emerged from the trees, the smaller of the two looking crestfallen, and the taller appearing as though he were trying very hard not to burst out in laughter. Catching sight of the group standing in front of him, Aragorn hastily clearly his throat. "As I was saying before I discovered my son's absence, this is Eldarion. Hopefully, he will not cause any more trouble during our stay here." He added with a pointed look at the sulking little boy.

Noticing the invitation for a change of topic, Rosie asked, "Speaking of your stay, where are you planning on waiting the night?" Aragorn smiled, aiming a sidelong glance across the expanse of the Shire. "I believe our agreement was to stay the next two nights at The Green Dragon, and then move on in the morning of the third day. In fact, on that note, we should make our way toward the inn; the night is closing in."

---

_Meleth nîn_ - my love

**A/N: **And here I will end the first chapter. The second should be up within a week, but I can't make any concrete promises. Just for the record, _Solmath_ is the fifth month of the year in the Shire, the equivalent of May on the Shire calendar. I hope that didn't confuse anyone too much. Thank you for reading!


	2. Of Hobbits and Pillows

**Disclaimer: **All recognizable events, places, and characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkein and possibly New Line Cinema. I am not profiting from this fanfiction, it is written purely for my own enjoyment and that of any who read it.

**A/N: **This is the second and likely second-to-last chapter of "Leaves of Hope". I had a very unwelcome revelation while writing this chapter; I can't use Eldarion's full name. I was planning to have Aragorn rebuke the child, and begin the lecture with "Eldarion Elessarion!" but, you know...it didn't sound right, and more importantly, I can't say it, and I like to be able to say the names of the characters I'm writing about. Estel is easy, because Elrondion flows with the first name, but really now, _Eldarion_ _Elessarion? _What a mouthful. I can't have my characters choking on their dialogue. So, unfortunately, that particular line had to be abandoned. It's a shame, because I liked the idea very much.

Thank you to Sarahbarr17 and SuddenSummerStorm for reviewing the first chapter! :) Your reviews were encouraging, and responses should have already reached your inboxes. Also, thanks are in order for Juliette Black and avidreader-new for adding this story to their alert lists, and to Sarahbarr17 again for favoriting it.

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A harried-looking hobbit opened the door of the inn, pressing himself flat against the wall in a vain attempt to avoid being whacked in the head by the sheathed swords that dangled from the belts of many of the new arrivals. Despite his caution, he found himself watching each potential customer as he passed, because Big People were a rare sight in Hobbiton now that - as rumor had it - a King had come to the long-empty throne in the West. This group of Big People were an even scarcer treat, because they were decked out from head to toe in finery rarely seen in those parts. A grin spread across his face as he imagined just what his brothers would say when he broke the news to them that, on the one day that Father had let them shirk their duties, a large group of armed and wealthy Men decided to camp at The Green Dragon, and had passed just inches from his nose!

"What are you smirking at, young halfling?" a rough and decidedly irate voice interrupted his pleasant thoughts, and he focused his eyes on the shining sword, emblazened with a white tree, that dangled manacingly in front of his face. "I - uh - that is, sir - I was just thinking about my dinner, sir! Please don't kill me!" The hobbit cringed even as the words slipped out, for he hardly recognized his own voice, so squeaky and undignified as it was. The man laughed, and a large hand descended upon his head. The tiny figure sunk even lower than his usual stature, as though trying to disappear into the floor.

Suddenly, a melodious female voice stayed the man's hand, and the soldier froze immediately. "Dautin, leave the poor halfling be. If you frighten the staff, we may have to seek another inn for our stay." The man straightened and bowed deeply to a figure several paces behind him. "As you wish, my lady. But I was only going to muss his hair, I would not hurt him." The woman strode forward and offered a slender hand to the cowering hobbit, pulling him to his feet. As she did so, the candlelight illuminated the side of her face just as the movement pushed her hood slightly back. The hobbit gasped. The woman was not simply a woman at all, but an Elf! Never before had he even imagined an Elf, let alone truly glimpsed one, or been offered aid by one! His brothers would swoon from jealousy!

"You may wish to close your mouth, young master, lest the midges make your mouth their home." Another man's voice, deeper than Dautin's and much kinder, emerged from the darkness beyond the Elf lady's shoulder. The hobbit clamped his mouth shut with an audible pop. Any further attempts at conversation, however, were thwarted when a loud voice called from across the pub. "Lettice! Stop hampering our guests and go make ready their rooms, for Valar's sake! It is late, and these people are weary."

As Lettice made his way up the stairs to the inn's many rooms, arms laden with a heavy load of clean sheets, he heard a small, childish voice float up the stairs behind him.

"Ada? Was that a halfling? Why was he thinking about dinner? Was he hungry? Ada, I'm hungry. When is our dinner?"

The Elf lady's voice interrupted the child before he could insult their hosts further.

"Eldarion, please. _Hush_. I am certain that the cook is preparing something to eat even now."

"Yes, Nana."

Lettice smiled to himself at the child's sullen tone. With the boy staying here, the next few days would be entertaining indeed.

______________________________

The door shut with a soft click behind Aragorn. He slipped down the stairs on softened footsteps, although taking care not to silence them completely and alarm any who might see him. He cast his gaze about the dining room, searching for the bartender, or perhaps a serving girl. Deciding that it was too early in the morning for any of the staff to be awake, he made his way toward the front door. Easing it open, he strode quickly through the dew-dampened grass and into the stables.

He inspected each stall and soon found his own horse. His brow furrowed as he examined the grooming. It was done well enough around the legs, but the quality suffered with height. He chuckled, and grabbed a brush from the shelf on the wall.

"Easy, old man. We're both familiar with the grooming work of hobbits, aren't we?"

The horse snorted, and stamped at the straw dangerously close to the Man's bare foot. "I apologize, you are not old. In fact, you are in the very prime of youth, am I correct?" he murmured, stroking the stallion's neck. The horse was silent, but he did not threaten to cause permanent damage to his feet, either, which Aragorn took to be a good sign.

A minute shuffling noise outside the stables alerted him to the approach of another - a hobbit, by the sound of the footsteps. Relaxing his shoulders, he tried to appear as though he were merely touching up the grooming, and not redoing it entirely.

A head of blonde curls appeared in the doorway, surprise evident on the hobbit's face.

"Oh! Oh, sir, I'm terribly sorry, did I not groom your horse well enough? You see, he kept moving, and I'm not quite tall enough to groom his back, and he wouldn't let me put a stool down, and I tried, sir, I really did, but I didn't want to be trampled, and he's a very big horse, it's awfully intimidating, and..."

His voice trailed off as Aragorn raised a hand to stem the constant flow of words.

"Peace, young sir. Your name is Lettice, is it not?"

He paused until the hobbit nodded, with rather more enthusiasm than the situation called for.

"Well, Lettice, my horse has been known to give even the groomers and stable hands among my own people trouble. Have no fear, this is a custumary occurence, and one I believe he has come to expect every time he is taken to a stable."

Lettice seemed to digest this new information for a moment.

"Well, I guess it's alright, then. May I ask what your horse's name is, sir?" the hobbit asked politely, craning his neck and standing on his toes in order to touch the stallion's shoulder.

"This is Beganca. His name means 'mighty jaws', and he is named so because when my brother bought him, this devil of a horse bit his finger, and broke the bone in two places." He paused to give the story time to sink in, and then continued. "Of course, it seems he only has a problem with Elladan, because he has yet to show _me_ why he was named thus." he smiled, rubbing the stallion's cheek with the heel of his hand.

The hobbit backed hastily away from Beganca, but stopped abruptly, as though just remembering something important.

"That's right! Sir, I was supposed to tell you that breakfast will be served shortly."

Aragorn smiled. "Thank you, Lettice. I will leave you to your duty, then."

______________________________

As Aragorn climbed the stairs leading to his room, his sharp ears picked up thuds sounding from Eldarion's room. Swearing softly in Sindarin, he drew his sword and burst through the door, freezing in bemusement while he surveyed the scene before him.

Feathers coated every surface in the room, and two figures sat on the small bed, both of which had turned to look as he made his grand entrance. The smallest figure clutched an empty pillowcase, and had several white feathers protruding from his brown hair, one of which he was currently attempting to detangle. The larger figure had long, dark hair - wait. Long hair?

"_Arwen?_" He asked incredulously, crossing the floor in three strides and plucking a stray feather from her hair. "What on Arda are you doing? I never thought I would see the day when you had a pillow fight with your son." he teased, sitting next to her and continuing to clean her tangled tresses.

"Do you now deny your part in conceiving _our_ son, simply because he has ruined a room in an inn?" she asked innocently, her eyes sparkling.

"I have not yet denied it. I wonder, though, why he has managed to ruin it while under your supervision. Surely, were he my son, he would have given you the slip and gone to defile your room, and later lay the blame upon you."

Arwen laughed, joining her husband in his efforts to rid her hair of the tiny feathers.

"You seem to have thought this plan out well. Was it, perhaps, something you tried as a child?"

"Let's not set any unsavory examples for Eldarion, Arwen. We do not want him to be any more of a handful." Aragorn cautioned, drawing the last feather out of her locks and turning his attention to the bed. A choking noise caught everyone's attention, and all three looked up simultaneously to see a wide-eyed hobbit staring in dismay at the disaster.

"Oh, no! I'll be fired!" Lettice groaned, amidst delighted laughter from the feathery boy on the bed.

---

_Beganca -_ a combination of _beleg_ and _anca_, which mean "mighty" and "jaws", respectively.

**A/N: ***snort* Don't you just love the little hobbit? I couldn't resist naming him Lettice; after all, what better name for one of the food-loving race than a food-related name? I wouldn't stoop so low as to name my own child that, but for a character created purely for comic relief, it works out fine. ;)

The third chapter will hopefully be finished and up in no more than a week.

Thank you for reading!


	3. Of Ears and Meals

**Disclaimer: **All recognizable events, places, and characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and possibly New Line Cinema. I am not profiting from this fanfiction, it is written purely for my own enjoyment and that of any who read it.

**A/N: **I mentioned in the last chapter's author's notes that this would be the last chapter. I'm pleased to announce that I have changed my mind. I'm not completely sure just how many more chapters there will be, but there will certainly not be more than ten, because I set a time restraint for myself in the first chapter when Aragorn mentioned they would only stay for two nights and two full days. I _could _simply extend the length of the visit, but I set that time frame because, while examining the pull-out map in the back of my copy of Fellowship, I realized that it is a _very, very long way _from Minas Tirith to the Shire, as Rosie will point out shortly. I could not let Aragorn's reunion last very long, because he and his guard had to travel six or seven hundred miles one way as the eagle flies, not to mention the mountain ranges and difficult terrain. Because of this, I am making each chapter essentially cover a 12-hour period of the stay in the Shire, even though each only offers about a 1-4 hour long glimpse of that time. If I continue with this plan, there will be five chapters.

I am toying with the idea of tacking on a sixth chapter, which would include "deleted scenes" of various antics of Eldarion's that I have written, but could not find places for. They would be from the journey to Hobbiton, as well as possibly the passing through Bree and stay/departure from the Shire. I don't know how that would be received, though, so if you have an opinion either way, _please_ let me know via review or PM.

Thanks are once again in order. :) Thank you to Chapter 2's reviewers,** iccle fairy **and **jg**, to **Reading-Girl56**, who added "Leaves of Hope" to her alert list, to **demeter d**, who added "Leaves of Hope" to their alert list, as well as adding me to their favorite author and author alert lists, and finally to **ananova**, who added this story to her community. Thanks a lot, guys!

I have written a novel of a note, and now I'll let you read the actual chapter.

Please read and review!

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"You know, halflings are supposed to be pure and innocent, but that little fellow we met back at the inn had an interesting manipulative streak in him," Daurin, the Captain of the King's guard muttered to the soldier who walked beside him. He threw a suspicious glance back at The Green Dragon, which was quickly receding from view.

"What do you mean, sir? The halfling did not convince his employer to let him keep his job on his own. The Prince told him what to say, and the King also contributed his piece. I've heard that he was quite the troublemaker in his childhood." the young soldier added, looking quite pleased that he had known something his superior had not.

"Ah. Well, then, I would appreciate it if you did not mention this conversation to anyone." Daurin said hastily, lowering his voice slightly. "Do I have your word, Caradic?"

The green soldier jumped at this clear opportunity to possibly advance his position. "Of course, sir - but I would greatly appreciate it if, in return, you would put in a good word or two about me to the King. I save your career, you further mine." he finished with a satisfied smile, knowing that his Captain would not refuse him at the risk of losing his hard-earned rank.

The Captain halted for a moment in disbelief, then laughed softly. "I suppose I deserve that. Very well, I will speak to Elessar King during my next report. Do not expect any sort of promotion until you have proven your worth in battle, though, young one."

"Of course not, sir. Thank you."

Several paces ahead of the oblivious, plotting soldiers, Arwen smiled conspiratorially. She leaned slightly toward Aragorn, and whispered into his ear. "As your wife and Queen, I feel obligated to inform you that two of your soldiers, one of which is Captain Daurin, are making arrangements to boost their careers in your service. Daurin unknowingly insulted you, and in payment for the younger soldier, Caradic's, silence the Captain will tell you that Caradic's service is invaluable. Does it give you unrest, my lord, to know that your guards extort each other?"

Aragorn chuckled as he received the news. "No, my lady, it certainly does not. During my days as Thorongil, I learned that extortion and bribery are quite popular practices. I also learned, however, that they rarely come to anything of merit. There is usually someone with a mind to alert the King, and the offending party must still earn his keep, like every other soldier."

Little footsteps soon reached his ears, and Aragorn looked up sharply at the new arrival. Eldarion was sprinting up the hill from Bag End, followed closely by Sam's daughter, who, although only a year younger than his son, looked in height to be three or four years his junior. Three of the royal guard trailed a few steps behind the pair, watching the children in undisguised amusement.

"Ada, Nana! I told Sam and Rosie that you were coming, like you said to. Nana, Ellie wants to ask you something." The little boy turned to his new friend. "Go on, El'nor."

The tiny child's eyes became impossibly wide as she realized she had been put under the spotlight.

"I...um." She swallowed hard, then drew herself up to her full height. "I've never met an Elf before, m'lady, and I was wond'ring if...if I could see your ears." Her newfound courage seemed to fade as quickly as it had come, and by the time she had finished her request, her little voice had faltered almost beyond the hearing of Men, and her words had run together in her anxiety.

Arwen laughed, swept her loose hair aside, and knelt to give the child a better view.

Elanor gasped, and reached out with a shaky hand as if to touch her pointed ears.

"Oh, you're so pretty!" she whispered in wonder. Arwen smiled.

"And so are you, fair Elanor. So are you." she assured the hobbit lass.

______________________________

The click of glasses upon the smooth tables and of forks upon full plates punctuated the lively atmosphere, and the sounds could be clearly heard even over the many conversations taking part at the overcrowded table. Rosie had insisted upon feeding not only Arwen, Eldarion, and Aragorn, but the dozen members of his guard, as well, and seven hobbit-sized tables had been placed together in order to accommodate everyone.

Little Frodo had fallen asleep halfway through the meal, his face dangerously near to landing in his mashed potatoes. Sam had excused himself and taken his son to bed, returning just in time to hear his wife ask the very question that had been on his mind since receiving the messenger's tidings several days ago.

"King Elessar, may I ask what you are doing all the way in Hobbiton? Sam has told me that it's quite a long journey from Minas Tirith, and I can't imagine that you would make the trip just for pleasure's sake."

Silence fell. Rosie began to look worried, but then several poorly concealed sniggers and coughs came from the end of the makeshift table, where the soldiers sat. The corners of Rosie's mouth lifted as she realized that the silence had been caused by their valiant efforts to withhold their mirth. Aragorn sent them a warning glance, and they quieted immediately.

"The folk of Bree have had much trouble believing that Strider - the filthy Ranger who did nothing but frighten their children and drink all the good ale - was now the King of the West." Aragorn's grey eyes glittered with amusement, and Eldarion giggled at his father's self-portrayal. "The few who believed the tales that Samwise and his friends gave upon their passage through Bree several years ago were outnumbered, and word reached my ears a year ago that riots had broken out.

"Faramir, my Steward, offered to make the journey himself, but I felt that if the people doubted that the King had come, what better proof than to see him with one's own eyes? I had to leave quickly, because, as you said, the trek is a long one, and I had no wish to prolong the unrest of a town I had frequented for many years."

He paused for a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Eldarion, being the stubborn child that he is, would not be left behind, but we were not two days into our journey when he wanted to turn back."

The "stubborn child" looked up from his napkin, which he appeared to be teaching Elanor to fold into a canvas eagle, with an indignant expression. "Ada! I did not!" he cried, flushing in embarrassment.

A soldier snorted softly, and smiled at Eldarion innocently when the boy turned his wrath upon this convenient new target. "With all due respect, my Prince, I was directly in front of you when you asked the Lady Arwen to take you home. Not, of course, that you would wish to go home now. You are much more seasoned in the trials of prolonged adventures than you were a year past."

Eldarion muttered something in Elvish under his breath that Aragorn did not catch, but Arwen heard it clearly. "Eldarion!" she scolded him. "That is no way to speak to one of the senior officers of the guard." The little boy sighed, but looked up at the soldier obediently. "I am sorry, Mabon. I did not mean to hurt you."

Aragorn whispered, too low for any of those present to hear except Arwen, "What did he say?"

The elleth's mouth twitched. "_Auta miqula yrch._"

"Oh, Eru." the King groaned, suddenly more glad than ever that no one at the table outside of his family had much of a grasp on Sindarin. "Who has been teaching you such insults?" he asked curiously.

Eldarion grinned. "Leg'las."

"Ah, Legolas. I will need to have a very long talk with him when he visits next. First, he tries to teach you to talk to trees, and now he's been teaching you _that_? But I digress; enough of Legolas and Sindarin. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, Eldarion tagged along, and probably picked up some new Westron insults from the citizens of Bree." He paused to wink at his son.

"But I believe we accomplished our aspiration, and so we decided to visit you fine people before starting back to Gondor. We were able to replenish our supplies in Bree before moving on. That is where our tale ends, however. How has the Shire been faring?"

Rosie smiled, and gestured to the window to her left. "See for yourself. The Lady Galadriel's gift has worked miracles upon the Shire. After all the business with Saruman, I thought it would take a dozen generations before anything grew again. He had corrupted many of the hobbits, and forced many more to work for him. He even recruited several Big People from neighboring towns. But now, thanks to Sam and his friends, everything is just as beautiful as it ever was. Perhaps more so."

Arwen stiffened suddenly at Aragorn's side, and he looked over at her in alarm, and then followed her gaze to the chair where Eldarion sat - or rather, had sat. The chair now stood empty, as did the smaller one next to it.

"_Man sad nan Eldarion?"_ she whispered, and as she looked to Aragorn, fear blossomed over her fair features.

---

_Auta miqula yrch _- Go kiss an Orc.

_Man sad nan Eldarion? _- Where is Eldarion?

**A/N: **Ooh, snap. The poor little children have disappeared! Wherever will I get my humor from _now_? This is quite the dilemma, ladies and gentlemen. So sorry about the cliffhanger, but at least there's another chapter for y'all. I _would_ end this by assuring you that the next chapter will be published within a week, but I've done that for the two previous chapters, and on both it's only taken me two days to finish and upload the new chapter. This time, I won't make any promises, and we'll see how that affects my timing.

Please remember to review and tell me what you think! ;) I could use some ideas for new Eldarionisms in future chapters.

_Anonymous Review Response(s):_

**JG**: Thank you for reviewing and reading my monster of an author's note, and thank you _so much_ for pointing out that Eldarion's full name is Eldarion Telcontar. I can't believe that slipped my mind, especially because I've had ROTK sitting right in front of me throughout all the writing for this story. But thank you, because now I can make Eldarion the victim of a full parental lecture, and watch him quiver (with laughter) in his boots! :) I hope you stick around.


	4. Of Swords and Laughs

**Disclaimer: **All recognizable events, places, and characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and possibly New Line Cinema. I am not profiting from this fanfiction, it is written purely for my own enjoyment and that of any who read it.

**A/N: **I guess we found out what happens when I don't set a deadline for myself. Sorry about that; I've been buried up to my neck in various linguistics lessons, namely Quenya and Sindarin, because my current grasp on Elvish is pitiful, and my new fic "Never Let Go" will require quite a bit of Elvish in future chapters, and probably Black Speech. I don't want to screw it up like I undoubtedly did with the minimal Elvish in LOH. But, unfortunately, a side effect of reading about the different verb forms and sentence structures is the loss of creativity. This chapter is fairly straight forward, but I had a lot of trouble with it. I hope the final product isn't too unsatisfactory.

Thanks to iccle fairy for reviewing the previous chapter! :) Your words are definitely appreciated.

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_Arwen stiffened suddenly at Aragorn's side, and he looked over at her in alarm, and then followed her gaze to the chair where Eldarion sat - or rather, had sat. The chair now stood empty, as did the smaller one next to it._

_"Man sad nan Eldarion?" she whispered, and as she looked to Aragorn, fear blossomed over her fair features._

Silence fell like a heavy anvil over the room for a split second, and then the company sprang into action. The guards rose as one, and Daurin could be heard cursing vehemently at everything that moved. Sam and Rosie appeared to be in shock, both staring blankly at their daughter's empty chair. Arwen looked as though she were holding back tears. Aragorn seemed strangely calm, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the guards, some of whom shot their King looks that clearly conveyed their questions about their lord's sanity.

"Hold." his voice cut through the commotion easily. Gradually, the soldiers ceased their preparations.

"My lord, your son has disappeared from underneath all of our noses. Are we not going to look for him?" Captain Daurin asked in disbelief.

"We will look for Elanor and Eldarion, but I would like to remind everyone that this is certainly not the first time that Eldarion has done something like this. Do you remember the first time he tried something like this, Captain?" he asked, amusement thinly concealed in his voice.

The broad-shouldered man smiled. "Of course. Even at four, he had the whole court in a panic."

"Much like he has just accomplished here. But he has played this trick too many times now to evade detection. I may have been teaching him to find suitable hiding places in various terrains, but there is one thing I have avoided teaching him yet. He has not yet learned how to cover his tracks, and he will be very easy to find in the forest. This is the Shire, not Mordor or even Ered Nimrais. There is no danger here. The children could not have gone far, because we were just speaking to Eldarion a few minutes before he disappeared."

Aragorn's calm words had a noticable effect; the soldiers appeared to be much more at ease, and Sam and Rosie looked less panicked.

"However," he continued, "we should still find them with all haste, because if I know my son at all, he'll have found some sort of trouble or undesirable creature, even in these woods."

With that, he stood and helped Arwen to her own feet, and beckoned to Sam and his wife.

______________________________

Two sets of child-sized footsteps were clearly visible upon the damp forest floor, and Aragorn, leading the search party, moved swiftly as he followed the trail. He cleared the way for the others as he went, because with such a large party, he did not want to let anyone fall behind.

Before an hour had passed, Aragorn began spending more time examining the tracks, his brows drawing together ever so slightly. Arwen noticed his manner change, and drew him aside for a moment.

"Is there something amiss?" she whispered.

"Nay, Arwen. Elanor's tracks simply are heavier now than they were at the beginning of the trail. It appears she began to tire here, and so perhaps we will find them ere long; I do not think Eldarion would lead his new friend on when she grew weary."

"Ah, that is welcome news. Shall I inform our friends?"

"Please."

Arwen made to move away, but then hesitated and turned back, lowering her voice even further.

"Aragorn. You managed to convince the others of the triviality of this situation, but I know you too well, and I am not so easily fooled. You are worried."

The man sighed, taking her hand in his own and drawing circles upon the back of her wrist with his thumb. A long pause punctuated her statement. When at last he answered, strain was evident in his voice.

"Aye. He may have done this before, but he does not know these woods like he does the land around Minas Tirith. Many of the hobbits hunt here, and I fear he may step into a trap. Elanor is familiar with these trees, but that still does not eliminate the risk of an accident."

Arwen's eyes widened slightly as she contemplated the new danger.

"Surely the folk of the Shire don't hunt creatures larger than rabbits, though?" she started hesitantly. "Perhaps, if a trap is a hazard, the trap will not be large enough to do serious damage."

Aragorn smiled. "We can only hope. Now, let's be on our way before our son has a chance to find trouble."

He watched as his wife relayed the news to Sam and Rosie, and was rewarded by their relieved smiles. He turned and continued the search, following the double trail of footprints with ease. A slapping sound and grunt of pain reached his ears and he looked over his shoulder in curiousity, noting the situation with a barely concealed grin. One of his younger guards had misjudged the height of a rather large tree branch, and had recieved an equally large bump on his forehead to show for it.

"Would you like me to take a look at that when we return to Bag End, Gwylnim?" he called to the injured party.

Several seconds of hesitant silence preceded the soldier's response.

"If it is not too much trouble, my lord, I would appreciate that. I fear the blow has broken skin, and if infection should set in, I will be of no use to Gondor."

"Excellent."

The company continued on for some distance, Aragorn paying close attention to each print in the damp earth. He paused and knelt beside a small group of tracks, tracing the edges of one with a fingertip.

"They began running a short while back." he murmured for the benefit of the people gathering behind him. "Here, it appeared they stopped to talk, and were restless - both shifted their weight numerous times." He gestured to the print he had traced; it was overlapped and surrounded by others identical in size and texture.

"What does that mean? Could they have been chased by - by something?" Rosie asked, her quiet voice heard for the first time since the group had entered the woods.

Aragorn opened his mouth to reply, but paused to raise a questioning eyebrow at Arwen, who had suddenly tilted her head towards the trees in front of her husband.

"I hear swords." she whispered tersely. Aragorn rose swiftly, his jawline hard, and drew Andúril from its scabbard with a resounding ring, accompanied by similiar sounds from the each of the guards' swords, as well as Sam's hunting knife.

"Lead the way."

Arwen flitted through the trees, flanked by Aragorn. As they ran, Aragorn's ears too could soon discern the clash of steel against steel, so terribly out of place amid the songs of sparrows and larks.

His grip on the hilt of his sword tightened even further, the bones of his knuckles visible through the taut skin.

King and Queen lengthened their strides even further as the sounds drew closer. Finally, they broke through the last of the impeding trees and shrubs, ready to fight whatever being dared threaten their son.

They both abruptly halted in amazement, dumbstruck as they surveyed the figures before their eyes.

Two tiny children appeared to be locked in combat near the center of the small clearing, oblivious to their new audience. The taller was winning, forcing the smaller backwards one step at a time. Snippets of conversation could be heard between the crashes of their undersized blades.

"...Good, that's better...oops, Ellie, guard your left...come on..."

Aragorn exchanged amazed looks with Arwen.

"By the Valar," he breathed. "He's teaching her swordsmanship."

Arwen's lips twitched, and finally she couldn't hold in her laughter. Peals of joy and relief rand out across the clearing, and the children froze in shock, turning to find the source of the unexpected interruption.

Sam and Rosie ran to Elanor, and when he reached her, Sam gently removed the sword from his daughter's hand before enveloping her in a tight hug, soon joined by Rosie.

Eldarion grinned and sprinted toward his own parents.

"Ada! Nana! I'm teachin' Ellie! She's almost as good as me already! Did you see, did you see?"

Aragorn laughed, embracing his son and swinging him through the air in his relief, drawing giggles from the little boy that mingled with his own. Mirth chased away the lines of care and worry around the Man's eyes, and Arwen could not help but join in, for in that moment, she knew that the evil of the Third Age had truly gone from the world, and that the peace of the Fourth was there to stay, at least for a little longer.

---

**A/N: **Whew! Just one more chapter! Hang in there, folks.


	5. Of Siblings and Farewells

**Disclaimer: **All recognizable events, places, and characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and possibly New Line Cinema. I am not profiting from this fanfiction, it is written purely for my own enjoyment and that of any who read it.

**A/N: **The final chapter is here, and I can finally write something else, something more angsty! I _tried_ to continue writing other fics while writing this one, and failed miserably; I kept putting humor in places where it really didn't fit. I can write multiple fics of similar moods at once, but when the atmospheres are complete opposites, it doesn't turn out so well. I actually caught myself forcing Aragorn to crack jokes to his widow-and-orphan-to-be on his death bed, and that's _seriously_ inappropriate. ;)

Thanks to juliette black and iccle fairy for reviewing the last chapter, you have both been very encouraging! :)

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"Ada! That's not fair!" a high, childish voice chided in a sullen tone.

"Eldarion, you did not tell anyone where you were going! Your guards were ready to send search parties to cover every inch of ground from here to Bree." a man's exasperated voice responded to the child's.

"But...but...but Ellie's not getting punished!" Eldarion cried indignantly.

Aragorn turned in surprise, quirking a dark eyebrow at his son.

"Is that what this is about? Do you truly _want_ Elanor to be punished for following your own lead? That is not wise, _ion-nîn."_

The little boy's jaw dropped, and he quickly backtracked, deciding to try a different tactic.

"No! Ada, I just - I just wanted to teach Ellie to defend herself! I didn't mean to make you worry!"

Aragorn's face softened, and he knelt down in front of his son, enfolding him into a warm embrace.

"Eldarion, that's fine. Truly. But please, next time tell someone when you're going to leave; don't just slip out while everyone distracted." He pulled away and studied his son's face, waiting for a reponse.

"Yes, Ada."

"Good. Now, we really should be getting on to the inn, because if our luck so far on this trip holds, that hobbit will have misplaced half of our belongings and all of our horses."

Arwen interrupted, "Really, Aragorn, Lettice wasn't that bad. Just a little - ah, _starstruck_."

Aragorn grunted. "Starstruck. Right. The child couldn't even form a sentence in your presence."

The Queen of Gondor smiled mysteriously and said no more.

______________________________

Three sets of wide eyes watched from behind three heads of fair hair as the handle on the front door of The Green Dragon slowly turned.

"This better be them, brother, because if they are not, I am going to make Father give you my kitchen work for the next week." The tallest figure joked to the smallest, who looked less than amused.

"I swear they were here, and they have to come back soon, because they left their baggage here." the shortest hobbit responded quickly, watching the door nervously.

As the door creaked open, the siblings fell silent, intent upon the objects of their attention.

First, a small figure appeared, followed closely by two tall figure, who in turn were tailed by a dozen Big People of varying degrees of largeness.

"See!" the smallest hobbit whispered excitedly. "It's them!"

"Hush up, Lettice." the second-tallest hobbit responded, clapping his hand over his younger brother's mouth. "We can't see them clearly yet. How do we know it's really them?"

As the group made their way further into the lobby of the inn, one of the tall figures made his way swiftly towards the bar, but before he could ask for a drink, the figure behind him called out in an obviously feminine, and obviously amused tone.

"Elessar! Come away from there; we have to leave this night and travel far, and you will be in no fit condition to do so if I allow you to consume some of that vile ale."

The trio of hobbits gasped in unison, turned to stare at each other in wonder.

"Elessar? Isn't that the King of the West?"

"Did she say Elessar? I didn't know his name before!"

"She might be his wife; I heard he married an _elf!_ The lucky lad!"

In their astonishment, they forgot to lower their voices, and the eldest sibling's final comment fell upon an entirely silent room, much to the amusement of the party of newcomers, and the chagrin of the hobbits.

"Did you hear that, _meleth nîn?"_ the elf's voice rang with ill-concealed laughter. "Our friend here approves of our marriage!"

The man by the bar shook back the hood of his cloak, revealing chiseled features and dark, slightly wavy hair that fell to his shoulders.

"Aye, I heard it." he responded, eyes crinkling in mirth. "It is good that he at least approves, because Lord Elrond had enough disapproval of our relationship to fill the hearts of several hobbits."

One of the guards supressed a chuckle at this statement.

Arwen narrowed her eyes at her husband.

_"Estel, anglenno. _I will not have your health compromised this night by a momentary lapse of judgement."

Aragorn looked quite sullen at this. "My lady, you insult me. Think you I cannot handle a glass of ale, made by only the finest, and a gift from Mithrandir himself?"*

"I do not doubt your ability to hold alcohol, dearest, after all, you and your people frequented Bree's tavern often enough in past days to develop a sour reputation, but I would prefer you not endulge this habit tonight."

Aragorn sighed and gave up, but as he returned to his wife's side, he muttered, "Eldarion has caused enough stress this night to silver my hair prematurely, and now you're doing it too."

Arwen simply smiled and drew Aragorn closer before settling her attention back on the three hobbits who had started their conversation.

"Lettice, would you please alert the stablehand that we would like our horses to be ready shortly? We plan to be on our way within the hour."

Lettice nodded and sprinted out the open door, leaving his two brothers to gape helplessly at the newly revealed royalty before their eyes.

The smaller of the two broke his silence first, with a soft squeak followed by a swift retreat into the kitchens.

Arwen's eyes followed the hobbit's progress openly. Eldarion, who had been mercifully quiet until this point, chose to speak at just the right moment. Just after the eldest sibling realized he had been left in the presence of a family of unfathomable grandoise, the little boy asked such a refreshingly normal question that the young _perian_ could have cried in relief.

"Excuse me, when is breakfast to be served?"

______________________________

The hooves of fifteen horses clattered down the rustic path, their destination within sight. Four small figures stood at the end of the road, two even smaller than their parents.

"Elda'ron!" a high voice bridged the remaining distance between the friends.

"'Lo, Ellie." the prince of Gondor responded, trying valiantly to keep the despondent edge out of his greeting. Unfortunately, he failed.

"What's wrong, Elda'ron?" The fair haired little girl wriggled out of her father's arms and craned her neck to look up at her new friend, whose face now sat several feet above her own.

Eldarion sighed, a sound far too old for his years, and Arwen reflected that he must have learned it from his father as she helped him dismount from his young horse.

"We're leaving, Ellie." he said quietly, apparently having forgotten that he was surrounded by nearly two dozen others.

The hobbit lass smiled. "I know. Is that all?"

Eldarion gaped, clearly astonished that his friend did not share his view that this must be the end of the world.

"Elda'ron, we're not sayin' goodbye, we're sayin' _farewell._ We'll see each other again."

Aragorn glanced knowingly at Sam, who smiled sheepishly at his old friend and confirmed his suspicions with a nod. It was obvious that Elanor was repeating her father's wisdom, as Aragorn had done himself with Elrond's words as a child.

Both children smiled at each other.

"I guess we will, Ellie. I guess we will." Eldarion agreed. He looked at Elanor a moment longer, then turned abuptly.

"Come on, Ada, Nana. We have to go home now." he told his parents, allowing his mother to help him mount his steed again.

Aragorn smiled at his son, then nodded at the Gamgees.

"We'll return soon enough. _Namárië_, my friends, until our next meeting."

---

*I stole this from The Prancing Pony, which, according to the chapter 'The Council of Elrond' in the Fellowship of the Ring, has been fortunate enough to have its beer enchanted by Gandalf. I thought it would be fun to give the enchanted ale to The Green Dragon instead.

_meleth nîn _- my love

_Estel, anglenno _- Estel, come closer.

_Namárië_ - farewell

**A/N: **Many thanks to all those who read, reviewed, or otherwise offered support and/or feedback throughout the (short) course of this story! You're all very much appreciated, and I'll never forget my surprise when I checked the traffic for Chapter Three and found that the view count had passed 100 in less than a single day. You guys all rock.


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